


Misunderstanding

by jucee



Category: Slam Dunk
Genre: M/M, awkward teenage boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fukuda lurks, and Sakuragi misunderstands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Misunderstanding

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Недопонимание](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4121490) by [Kenilvort](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kenilvort/pseuds/Kenilvort)



You notice his presence for the first time on a Tuesday morning while walking to school. He’s sort of, well, lurking, except he’s the same height as you and nobody as tall as you could possibly lurk too successfully in broad daylight. Which is not to say that _you_ couldn’t do it if you tried, because you can do anything if you try, but not everybody’s fortunate enough to be a genius.

“Hey,” you say, and Youhei glances up from his intense study of the pavement. “Did you know that guy’s been following us?”

“Yeah,” Youhei shrugs.

“Since when?”

“Last week.” Youhei gives you a look out of the corner of his eye, like there’s something he wants to say but isn’t sure how you’d take it, but then he looks away and you forget about it because you’re more preoccupied with the idea that this guy’s been following you for a week and you’ve only just noticed. Then Takamiya crashes into your back, pushed off balance by Noma, and in between Ookusu’s wild laughter and your angry shouts and the universal distribution of headbutts, you totally forget about the unexplained presence of Fukuda Kicchou.

Until the next morning, because there he is again just as the five of you turn the corner, as if he had already been there awhile and was just waiting for you to appear. He keeps a distance of about ten metres and sometimes two or three people, but you’re always conscious that he’s there, and you think that he may know that you know too. He follows you up to the gates of Shohoku and the second you step inside he turns around and leaves, probably heading off to his own very far away school, and this happens every morning for another week. Then you lose it because, well, the guy is freaky.

“Does he really think he can find out stuff about the team through me? The tensai can’t be fooled so easily!” you rant and shake a fist in Ryota’s face.

Ryota sighs and says, “Yes, yes,” then slips past you easily with a fake.

“Maybe he’s in love with you,” Mitsui laughs loudly, and doesn’t shut up until you say, “Nobody wants to hear your opinion, Mr I-Couldn’t-Graduate-and-Had-To-Repeat-Third-Year,” and then the two of you have a bit of a punch-up while Ryota pinches the bridge of his nose with a pained expression on his face.

The next morning, you tell Youhei and the others to go on ahead, and they turn the corner without you. Three seconds later, Fukuda appears at the intersection looking confused, and you pounce.

“You! Why the fuck are you following me around every day?” 

You grab him by the collar and give him a shake, but he remains as expressionless as ever and doesn’t say a word. And you have no idea why but your anger disappears without warning, and then you feel kind of stupid for having two handfuls of his formerly neat shirt clenched in your fists. So you let go, take a step back, and you say, “Well, just stop it! I’m not gonna tell you any secrets about the team, even if it’s obvious that I’m the star player (not Rukawa) and I’ll be the focus of all of Shohoku’s strategies (not Rukawa).”

He still doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t even look at you, instead staring at a point somewhere left of your shoulder, and when he finally speaks his voice is so quiet that you miss half of the words. “Sendoh said... the most effective method... late to school... effort and persistence... so yeah.”

“So yeah what?” you say, resisting the urge to headbutt him into a coma. “I didn’t hear any of that, you stupid bastard!”

He continues to stare off into the distance, and just when you’re about to say, “Fuck this,” and leave, he says, “Forget it,” and leaves.

So you do, mostly, and the rest of the day passes normally enough. It isn’t until the following morning that you remember the weird conversation that didn’t really involve any conversing, because when you turn the corner he isn’t there. Nor is he there the next day, or the day after that, and then you find that you can’t stop thinking about it and that pisses you off even more than when he was lurking around too obviously and scaring away all of the girls who usually took that same route to school.

“So that guy just follows me around for two weeks and then mumbles something at me and then doesn’t show up again? Is there something wrong with his head?” you fume as you jog around the gym.

From behind you, Ryota sighs and says, “Yes, yes,” then falls back slightly when he sees Mitsui opening his big mouth.

“Maybe you’re in love with him,” Mitsui laughs, and doesn’t stop until you try to cut off his breathing with both of your hands wrapped around his neck. You let go when you both receive sharp whacks on the head from Ayako’s fan, and standing safely behind her, Miyagi orders you to run another ten laps while the others begin to do passing drills.

“Stupid Micchi,” you mutter as you head for the school gates, where you almost run into somebody who apparently lurks much more skilfully when it’s dark.

Fukuda is wearing his letter jacket and has a gym bag slung over his shoulder, indicating that he was also recently at practice, and for the first time it occurs to you to wonder how far away Ryonan is from Shohoku. So you ask him, “How far away is Ryonan from Shohoku?”

He stares at a point somewhere left of your shoulder and says, “About forty minutes.”

“Oh,” you say, and then it also occurs to you to ask, “And how far away is your house from Shohoku?”

“About an hour.”

And that’s when it all clicks like a strange sinking feeling in your stomach, like something odd-tasting that you’re not sure whether you want to spit out or swallow. “You like me, don’t you?”

He shrugs, and then, almost as an afterthought, he nods.

“Well I don’t like you!” you immediately shout, and you’re rather surprised by how unsurprised you are when he just nods again. You shuffle your feet for a moment, until you remember that hey, you’re not the one who’s meant to be feeling awkward and a little bit guilty here. But when you look up you find that he’s actually staring at you, at _you_ , and as you stare back you think maybe it’s strange that you’re not sure whether you want to spit it out or swallow. 

Finally, since he looks like he could just stand there all night, you mumble, “So, yeah. Bye,” and walk away very quickly, though at a pace that could in no way be construed as running. You wonder whether he got the message clearly enough, and then you wonder whether you know what the message actually is. 

The only thing you do know, with an inexplicable certainty, is that he’ll be waiting for you at the corner the following morning, though you don’t know why the thought makes you feel like smiling.


End file.
